


Bake Off

by ScienceGeeky



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Bake Sale au, Fluff, High School AU, M/M, incredibly fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 20:17:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6438733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScienceGeeky/pseuds/ScienceGeeky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos totally knew that Cecil was having his bake sale today. He definitely knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bake Off

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday present for my dear friend Gabby. Happy birthday!

Carlos definitely knew that the radio station was having a bake sale today, Cecil decided. He  _ knew _ radio was having a bake sale and put the Science Olympiad bake sale on the  _ exact same day _ . What an asshole. (But not as much of an asshole as Steve Carlsburg. What sort of asshole takes the last of the curly fries on a  _ Wednesday _ ?) 

Oblivious to Cecil’s glare (about 60% glare, 40% ogle at Carlos’s very nice hair), Carlos sold another pastel-frosted cupcake with a bright smile and a cheerful, “Thank you!” Cecil examined the meticulously-decorated cookies in front of him, each lovingly frosted to resemble a specific organ. Why did no one want his cookies? 

Noticing that Cecil was, indeed, glaring, Carlos looked up from counting money and said, ‘“It’s not my fault no one wants your eyeball cookies.” 

“And people do want your Easter-egg cupcakes?” Cecil snapped. 

As he was saying this, a tall, skinny girl with long black bangs over one eye pointed at the eyeball cookie and said, “How much?”

“One dollar or one-eighth of your soul,” Cecil said. The girl handed him a dollar and took the cookie. 

“See, she wants my cookies! People like my cookies!”

“Goths like your cookies,” Carlos corrected. “The rest of the school likes my cupcakes!” 

“Hmph,” Cecil said, turning pointedly away from Carlos’s soulful (Mrs. Joy, the creative writing teacher, told him not to use that word, but he thought it was perfect) brown eyes. 

Carlos sold another pastel cupcake. 

By four o’clock, the crowd had cleared as everyone left for home or their preferred after-school activity. Cecil was fairly certain his mother told him to be home by four-thirty, but considering all the planning he was doing that morning for his weekly news report on the school’s important happenings (for example, the local stray cat’s odd behavior and updates on the local “gang”, the Hooded Figures). 

Carlos was packing up his empty boxes and money while Cecil looked at his few remaining cookies (two livers, two kidneys, and one brain) sadly. He’d sold quite a few, but not all of them. He was about to pack up when he heard a chocolatey voice say, “Are these for sale?”

“Um, yes,” Cecil said, smiling up at Carlos. “Five dollars for all of them.” 

Carlos handed him a ten. “Keep the change,” he said, grinning right back with all his perfect teeth. Like a military cemetery, Cecil thought, thinking of the school trip to Washington, D. C. 

Carlos took a bite out of the liver cookie and announced, “Delicious!” 

“Um, Carlos, could you give me a ride home?” Cecil asked, feeling a little flustered that he had to ask again. The Pace bus wouldn’t get him home on time, if four thirty was indeed on time. 

“Sure,” Carlos said, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “Get all your things and we can head out. I just have to drop off the money at the office.” 

“Me too,” Cecil said, looking at the satisfying stack of cash he’d made for the radio station. Perhaps he could do a little story on the importance of bake sales to the school’s internal economy. Everyone knew how important investing in school clubs was, and if they didn’t, they ought to know. 

Carlos’s car was parked in the back of the lot, because Carlos was often just on time, but Cecil didn’t mind the walk, because as they walked, they held hands. 

“You can put on the radio,” Carlos said, starting the car. He drove a hybrid, of course, though it was his family’s car. 

“You don’t mind the school station?”

“Nope.” 

Cecil grinned. Station management, also known as the teacher whose office no one dared enter, had just approved a new program for one of the newer interns and he wanted to hear it. 

He didn’t hear the whole show before Carlos pulled into his driveway. “See you tomorrow!” Carlos said. 

“See you,” Cecil said. He was about to get out of the car when Carlos leaned over and kissed him right on the lips. Cecil’s face flushed a violent shade of crimson from surprise but he kissed his boyfriend back, smiling if that was possible. 

Carlos pulled away first, biting his lip against yet another toothy smile. “Bye,” he said. 

“Bye,” Cecil squeaked, taking his backpack and almost skipping inside. 

Maybe it was alright sharing his bake sale day after all. 


End file.
